(Extra) Of Honeymoons & Ocean Waves
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: "I'm glad," Minho murmured softly, "that I get to spend my life with you."
1. Chapter 1

-Of Honeymoons & Ocean Waves-

-Well, I need to apologize for the gigantic amount of fluff in this. Because trust me, there is a LOT. This was requested by a guest reviewer who wanted a honeymoon fic with Minho and Newt (and their first time, you know, THE first time... XD) It'll probably be two parts long. I hope you like it! Leave a review to let me know what you think :)

PS: I couldn't think of a good place to send Minho and Newt for their honeymoon, so I made one up XD-

Everyone had heard of the famed beach a plane's ride away from Glade City.

It was called the Gem of the Ocean, the Place of Fire (after the magnificent fireworks that were launched nearly every night, for almost any occasion), the Holiday Beach (because of how every possible holiday was celebrated there), the Wonderland.

It's real name was the Siren's Paradise, named after the creatures of the deep that took the forms of beautiful girls with heartbreaking voices. The surrounding, bustling town of Siren's Paradise was just as beautiful as the beach itself. Cute little shops, blue-walled houses, and neat sidewalks were all scrunched together along the streets. The stores there sold everything from fish to jewelry to musical instruments. The houses were either small, modest things or wealthy, sapphire gems (many had been painted a pale shade of blue, to match the pristine ocean of Siren's Paradise). Balconies overlooked people scattered across the sidewalks below. They talked and laughed, and enjoyed the always-lovely weather of the beach.

There was even a part of the town, called the Waterwalk, where there were no streets, only water. Canals marked the pathways between buildings, glittering azure in the sunlight. Sleek boats drifted along between sidewalks, tempting tourists and other visitors. Ornately designed bridges spanned the waterways and made great places to take pictures.

But even with all this mysterious splendor, there was one place in Siren's Paradise that was different from everything else. A place wealthier, livelier, and brighter. That place was The Diamond. The Diamond was a towering seaside hotel, set at the edge of the town's limits. It overlooked the ocean in all its glory. It was gorgeously built with archways and balconies, painted purest, soft white. The windows were taller than a man and golden light blazed from them day and night. It had great food, a renowned dance hall, and more grandeur than even the wonderful Glade City itself. Everything about this place whispered of escape, and wonder, and dreams.

The perfect place to go on a honeymoon, don't you think?

-x-x-x-

Newt was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, the window rolled down the whole way. He rested his head against the seat and let the summer wind snag his hair. They were driving fast, but not fast enough for the air buffeting the car to be unbearable. Just enough to lift the blonde strands off his forehead. He glanced out the window and glimpsed a guy playing the saxophone outside a pale, blue-walled house. He smiled. He could hear Minho beside him, talking on his cell phone as he drove at a lazy pace through the windy streets.

"Yes, Mom, I made it," Minho was saying, keeping a hand on the steering wheel. "No, I wasn't robbed. Newt wasn't robbed either...No, nobody tried to kill us...Why're you worrying so much, I'm not a kid anymore. I think I know what I'm doing...I'm not VERY young...Okay, maybe it is kinda young compared to you...Hey, I was just saying!" He laughed then, and the sound rippled like dark waters.

Newt closed his eyes and listened to more of the conversation. The corners of his mouth turned up as he did.

"Yeah, we're here...Yes...They said the hotel's great...Why're you calling me again?...Oh, yeah, well, we didn't die, we're not sick, we're not kidnapped. We're fine...I'll see you later, okay?...Mom...yes, I have sunscreen...Oh my god, NO I DID NOT BRING CONDOMS and if you snuck them into my suitcase, I will throw them into the ocean...NO that is NOT the only thing honeymoons are for."

Newt snickered. Oh, Mrs. Park. She could be interesting sometimes. He turned his head to look at Minho then. Minho was pink in the face, listening at the moment to whatever his mother was saying. He sighed, a slight smile pulling his lips up. "I'll take a lot of pictures for you...I promise...Okay...I know...Yeah...Love you too." He hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. "I think she has separation issues," he said flatly.

"You think?" Newt asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Hey, you gotta give her some credit. She waited until AFTER we got here to call." Minho smiled teasingly then. The sunlight caught in his ebony hair and turned it to silky, cobalt-blue. It also brought out the pinpricks of gold in his dark eyes.

Newt longed to pull the car over and kiss him. Instead, he glanced out the window again. "So where's this place we're going again?" he asked.

"The Diamond," Minho answered. "It's on the beach. The rooms with the balconies are the best, so I'm planning on taking advantage of that."

"The Diamond, huh?" Newt echoed thoughtfully. "It sounds very nice."

"It's supposed to be one of the best in the world."

"Really?"

"Of course." Minho grinned brightly, then reached over to slip his hand into Newt's. He laced their fingers together and brought their hands up to touch his lips to Newt's knuckles. "Only the best for my angel," he added affectionately.

Newt's heart started doing crazy backflips in his chest. He was such a softie around Minho. "Please," he scoffed jokingly. "You're just using the occasion to get into a fancy hotel. It has nothing to do with me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Minho replied lightly. "It has everything to do with you. The entire 'occasion' is for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Newt brushed it off. "And what was that your mother said earlier? Something about condoms?" He flashed Minho a suggestive smirk.

Minho blushed and kept his gaze fixed on the front windshield. "I don't know why she says the things she says," he sighed in comical hopelessness. "But if she packed condoms for us, I may actually drive the whole way home just to leave them on her doorstep."

Newt laughed, shaking his head. "She does realize that neither of us can get pregnant, right?"

"I honestly don't know what goes on in her head anymore."

Newt smiled, then shifted his gaze down to their joined hands. Sunlight filtered in through the windshield and glittered on the golden ring on Minho's finger. Newt's heart leaped with joy when he saw it. He couldn't help but rub his thumb over his own ring, feeling the cool, smooth surface under his skin. It made him giddy every time he thought of it: he was married. He was in Siren's Paradise. Minho Park—no, Minho NEWTON—was his husband. He remembered the day he'd told Minho that he didn't have to change his name, and Minho's reply that Newt just couldn't be Newt without his last name. Then, being the romantic shank he was, he'd added that he'd always felt he belonged to Newt, so why not make it official in every way?

Newt didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky.

He gazed out the window again as they neared the edge of the town. The beach opened up before them, a glittering expanse of white sand closed off by only a fence. People were out there now, laying out blankets and folding chairs. They all looked so happy and carefree. Newt felt lighter than ever to know that for a short while at least, he was one of them, lost in the beauty that was the Gem of the Ocean.

The car arced around the outer edge of town, passing shops with seahorse figurines and seashells in their windows. Up ahead, a massive building rose up above all the rest. Newt leaned forward to gawk upward in awe. Shining, snowy walls and stone pillars around the entrance greeted him. As they drew nearer, he could see flowing, elegantly black lettering printed over the main entrance: THE DIAMOND.

"THIS is The Diamond?" he asked incredulously.

"Yup!" Minho answered, a hint of bravado in his voice. "Nice, huh?"

"Minho, how much did you pay for this?"

"Don't worry about that." Minho stroked his thumb over Newt's knuckles.

Newt raised his eyebrows at Minho. "I'm kinda worrying about it," he admitted.

"Sweetheart, this is our honeymoon, and you're my husband," Minho assured him. There was that same thrill of happiness in his voice when he said it out loud. "Costs don't mean a thing."

Newt fought off his silly smile and shifted his eyes back to the sprawling hotel. He'd known that Minho had wanted to keep where they were going a secret because it was going to be great, but he hadn't expected this. This was incredible.

They pulled up next to the neat rows of cars beside the hotel. Minho shut off the engine and pushed his keys into his pocket. "All right, let's go," he announced, and opened his car door.

Newt blinked. "What? Wait a minute!" He fumbled out of his seat belt and opened his own door. Standing up in the warm breeze, he faced Minho over the roof of the car. "What about, you know, our stuff?"

Minho waved a hand dismissively. "I had everything sent to the room before we even got into town," he reassured Newt. "All we need to do is walk in."

Newt blinked. "You did all of this for me?" he asked. "Just for our honeymoon?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Minho rounded the hood of the car to stand in front of Newt. Taking the blonde's arms gently, he glided his hands down to hold Newt's fingers in his. "I love you," he murmured. "I'd do anything to make you happy."

Newt smiled like a fool. "Anything?" he asked with a tinge of playfulness.

Minho's mouth curved up. "Yeah, anything."

"Take me to our room with the balcony?" Newt asked sweetly.

"Of course."

"Go swimming later?"

"Heck yeah."

"Ummm..." Newt pretended to think, sidling up close to Minho. Keeping their fingers laced together, he leaned in to brush his lips over Minho's ear. "Take me up to the room now?" he asked in a suggestive whisper.

Delight lit up inside of Newt when Minho shivered. "Whatever you want, angel," Minho murmured, turning his head to nuzzle Newt's hair. Now it was Newt's turn to shiver.

Newt stepped back, still grinning broadly, and let go of one of Minho's hands. He held onto the other, fingers entwined, as they started toward the front of the hotel. As they walked, Newt couldn't stop sneaking sideways glances at Minho. In the white-hot sunlight, he looked absolutely breathtaking; he wore the black mesh shorts he'd worn in track and a blue T-shirt. The shirt was just tight enough to show off his broad shoulders and chest. Newt would never admit it out loud, but he secretly loved having a husband as gorgeous as Minho to show off. He slipped his hand out of Minho's then, choosing to loop his arm around Minho's waist instead. The feel of the muscles flexing in Minho's back made him dizzy.

Minho slid his arm around Newt's shoulders and pulled him in to kiss his forehead. "Can't stop touching me, huh?" he asked in a low voice.

"I could say the same about you," Newt returned.

Minho rubbed Newt's shoulder with his hand as they walked up to the front doors. They were wide and golden, with spiraling designs carved into the surface. They swung open on their own as the couple approached, revealing the interior of the hotel. The Diamond's lobby was huge, with a domed ceiling of gold-and-white spirals. The front desk was wide and made a nice contrast with its dark, reddish wood. People roamed back and forth, either coming or going. All of them wore light, summer clothes and shared the same cheerful laughter. Some of them shot Minho and Newt surprised, and then curious glances; others just smiled. It was the ones that smiled that Newt decided he liked.

The room was even better. As soon as Newt stepped through the door, he gaped in shock. It was a vast space of dark furniture standing out against the creamy walls and lush carpet. A doorway led back to a sprawling bathroom, with a huge shower and a mirror long enough for four people to use at the same time. The huge bed was just as luxurious, piled with pillows and sheets. The entire room had a very airy, open feeling, probably because of the glass doors at the back. They were open wide, and led out to a balcony overlooking the jewel of the ocean. The entire scene was like something out of a dream.

"Oh..." Newt slowly stepped farther inside, slipping out of Minho's embrace. He couldn't stop staring at everything, even though he knew he must look ridiculous.

Minho hung back, watching him. "You like it?"

"Uh-huh," Newt mumbled absently.

"You're awfully quiet," Minho chuckled in amusement. "Speechless already, and we didn't even get to the beach yet."

"Can we live here?" Newt made his way past the bed, trailing his fingertips over the soft sheets. He went to the balcony doors next and leaned his shoulder against the doorway. From here, he could see the whole way out into the sea. It went on forever, an endless expanse of blue-green that met the horizon at its edge. Newt couldn't believe that a place like this actually existed, that it wouldn't disappear at a simple touch.

Joining Newt at the balcony, Minho wrapped his arms around the blonde's waist from behind. Newt instinctively closed his hands over Minho's on his stomach. Minho kissed Newt's neck once, twice, then rested his chin on Newt's shoulder. "Newt?" he mumbled.

Newt let his weight sink back into Minho. "Hmm?"

"I'm glad," Minho murmured softly, "that I get to spend my life with you."

Newt's heart bloomed with happiness in his chest. He lifted one of Minho's hands from his stomach and watched the way their fingers overlapped. Their wedding rings glinted right next to each other. "God, I'm so in love with you," he whispered, and Minho's arm tightened around him. How had it gotten like this? How had he come to need Minho so much, more than anything else?

Turning in Minho's arms, Newt linked his hands at the back of Minho's neck. A half-smile touched his lips. "Remember when you said you'd do anything for me?" he asked softly.

"Mm-hm," Minho hummed in reply.

"Would you do something now?" Newt rested his forehead against Minho's, his smile widening. He let his fingertips slip into the soft hair at the nape of Minho's neck.

Minho's eyes were already fogging over with desire. "Anything," he mumbled, pushing his hands under Newt's shirt to press them to the blonde's lower back.

"Then let's go swimming."

The look of mixed surprise and disappointment on Minho's face was priceless. Newt gave a little laugh and placed a brief kiss on Minho's mouth. "What's wrong?" he asked innocently. "Were you hoping for something else?"

"No," Minho muttered.

"Liar."

"Oh? So what did you think I wanted?"

"Me."

Minho smiled at the way Newt leaned against him then, pressing their chests together. Leaning in, he trailed his nose down Newt's neck. "Maybe I do want you," he admitted quietly.

"Well, we ARE on our honeymoon after all..." Newt trailed off suggestively.

Minho made a tiny sound at the words, sliding his hands farther up Newt's back under his shirt. Newt purred at the touch and arched his back slightly. "But not now," he whispered, when Minho tried to lean in for a kiss. "You can have me later. Right now, I wanna swim, okay?"

Minho groaned in despair. "No, it's not okay," he decided in mock sadness. "I waited the entire car ride here to kiss you, and now you're not even gonna let me."

"Well, you can kiss me when we get out there," Newt suggested.

"Not the same," Minho replied glumly. "I can't make out with you in public."

Newt smirked and dropped a kiss on Minho's nose. "Later, love," he murmured. "I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

-Here we are, another chapter! And um, sorry, but this ended up turning into a three-part story. Again. I honestly don't know how they end up like that, it just happens. But hey, more Minewt for you to read! :D

Also, for the coming chapters, I don't really know if there are such things as bars (for drinks and such) located at the side of dance halls, but hey. I imagined it like that, and I wanted a bar there, so it's there. Minho's gotta get some drinks and dance XD.

Thank you so much if you left a review. They make my day every time I see them. So let me know what you thought about this chapter, favorite parts, stuff you want in part three, etc. etc.

Enjoy!-

The beach was gigantic.

Soft, ivory sand stretched up to meet the whispering waves of the ocean. People were out in the afternoon heat, enjoying the hot sun and cool waters. Couples held hands and sat together with shining smiles; parents looked on as their children played; a couple of kids were splashing around in the shallow water close to the shore. The whole place was warm with the heat of summer. From the beach, it was easy to see the great walls of The Diamond. There were constantly more cars pulling up outside, as more and more people arrived. A few of them were carrying black instrument cases from parked vans.

Newt watched the musicians as they carried their things toward the hotel's grand entrance. He was out in the water, feeling its icy coolness around him; floating with the waves coming up to his nose, he let the ocean take his weight for him. He saw one of the musicians lugging what looked like a trombone's case up the front steps of The Diamond. Maybe there was something going on in the dance hall tonight. Newt had heard a lot about it and he'd secretly been curious. Not that he'd admit it out loud. Dancing in public suddenly turned him shy and he knew that as soon as he mentioned it to Minho, they'd end up in the dance hall later.

Newt lifted himself an inch higher in the water then and glanced around. Speaking of Minho, where—?

"HA! GOTCHA!" The call came from behind, a second before a pair of hands fell on Newt's shoulders. He only had time to give a very embarrassing squeak before he was shoved beneath the surface. Forcing his eyes open, he saw nothing but midnight-blue and other people's feet stepping in the shallows. Tilting his head upward, he swam up hard until he broke the surface again. After a quick gulp of air, the first thing he said was, "I will kill you, Minho!"

Minho's wicked laughter lit up the air and he appeared beside Newt, treading water leisurely. "Aw, what's wrong?" he asked innocently. "You wanted to go swimming, but you didn't expect to get wet?"

"No, I just didn't expect to drown," Newt flashed back, pushing his fingers through his hair. It was immediately turned into a tousled, soaking mess of blonde.

"I would never think of drowning you, sweetheart," Minho replied, unbothered. "Not when I'm gonna need a dance partner later." He pointed a thumb at where the musicians were filing into the hotel. "Yes, I noticed the musicians. And yes, I'm planning on dancing tonight."

"Shit," Newt muttered under his breath.

"Why don't you like dancing? You always dance with me." Minho pouted, giving Newt his best puppy-eyes.

"Yes, well, not in front of people," Newt pointed out.

"You danced with me at Brenda's party one year, remember?"

"Okay, not in front of strangers, then."

"Newt, you have to come," Minho protested. "It's part of like, the husband's code."

Newt sent him a flat look. "There is no 'husband's code.'"

"Yes, there is."

"How do you know?"

"I just made it up."

Newt tipped his head back and groaned in exaggerated hopelessness. "You're unbelievable sometimes, Minho," he remarked.

"Don't change the subject," Minho teased. He smirked devilishly. "We are definitely going dancing tonight."

"I hope you drown," Newt returned sarcastically.

"Eh, I'm too skilled to drown." Minho sank into the water up to his neck.

Newt eyed Minho's perfect sweep of spiked hair. "You haven't even gone underwater yet," he said disbelievingly. "Your hair's not wet."

"Maybe I just care about my appearance more than you," Minho sniffed.

Newt watched him for a long long moment. His gaze flicked from Minho's face back to his hair again. Minho caught him looking, and his expression shifted. "Oh, don't you dare—"

Newt chose that moment to lunge forward and plant his hands on Minho's shoulders. Shoving down hard, he forced Minho's head under the water. Taking it a little farther, he speared his fingers through Minho's hair and ruffled it as he pushed him down. Grinning in triumph, he backed up again to let Minho come up for air. Minho resurfaced, spluttering, and Newt burst out laughing. Minho's jet-black hair now flopped down into his eyes. It was different to see it like that, but it didn't take away from how attractive he was. He turned a glare on Newt as the blonde snickered gleefully.

"Oh yeah," Newt chuckled. "That's a good look for you."

"You're dead, now, Newton," Minho quipped, and he lunged for Newt with an evil smirk.

Newt yelped and swam backwards in an attempt to dodge Minho. Of course, he only managed to stay ahead for two feet before Minho caught him. Snagging the blonde around the waist, Minho hauled Newt's back up against his chest. It took two seconds for Newt to realize what was about to happen, and by then, it was too late to get away. Minho's fingers started digging into his sides and explosions of tingles danced over his skin. Newt couldn't help it when he giggled like a two-year-old girl and struggled in Minho's arms. "Min! Agh, s—stop!" he gasped, as Minho tickled him mercilessly.

"Sorry, I can't hear you at the moment," Minho replied lightly. "I'm waiting for an apology from my husband."

"Minho!" Newt protested. Minho found the place under Newt's ribs and attacked it with his fingertips. Newt twisted his body away, but was still trapped in Minho's embrace. He was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

"What was that?" Minho asked.

"Min! All right, I'm sorry!"

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry! Just let me go!"

Smiling smugly, Minho stopped tickling Newt. Newt let out a breath of relief and rested his back against the strong stretch of Minho's body. He could feel the steely muscle against his skin and it left him a little breathless. Sighing blissfully, he went limp in Minho's arms and let his head fall back onto Minho's shoulder. Minho held him above the waves with both arms around his middle. His smile softened when Newt turned his head to kiss Minho's neck.

"You're such a shank sometimes, you know that right?" Newt murmured.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," Minho replied.

Newt's reply was to lean in and kiss Minho's neck again, this time just beneath his jaw. He trailed his mouth higher and nipped at Minho's earlobe. Minho gave a little gasp. Newt chose then to pull away again, satisfied with the way Minho had tensed in anticipation at the kisses. "So," he said softly, "where do you wanna go next?"

Minho hummed in thought, scanning the long white-yellow band of the beach. There was one spot at edge of the town that everyone seemed to be heading to after swimming: a cute shop painted bright yellow, with designs of orange seahorses dancing across the walls. It had a wide doorway, with two doors which had been propped wide open. Girls in colorful bikinis and guys in swim trunks were wandering inside, chatting happily. Minho looked down at Newt, still reclining in his arms. "You wanna go in there?" he asked, gesturing to the shop.

Newt followed Minho's gaze. "Sure," he replied with a smile.

Minho chuckled, and it vibrated against Newt's back. "You wanna get off me so we can get out of the water?"

"No," Newt sighed, nosing into Minho's neck. "You smell like the ocean," he remarked in a murmur, lips grazing Minho's skin.

"I think we both do." Minho subconsciously tilted his head at Newt's touch at his neck. Newt responded by placing tiny kisses beneath Minho's jaw. Giving a soft whimper, Minho's eyelids drooped. "Newt..."

"Okay, okay," Newt conceded, stopping before they started making out in front of everyone. He pulled away from Minho, out of his embrace. "Let's go."

They stumbled out of the water, drunk on laughter and each other. After drying off briefly, they headed toward the shop together. Newt couldn't think of the last time he'd felt like this, walking with Minho's arm around his shoulders and the soft sand underneath their feet. He didn't care that people were around to blink in surprise at them; didn't care that his arm was maybe too low at Minho's hips. He was too high on summer and his husband. His heart gave another thrilled jump at the thought of it again: Minho was his husband. It was almost too good to be true.

They walked up to the shop; above the wide-open double doors, a sign cheerfully stated THE SEAHORSE: GIFT SHOP. Inside, it was an open, pleasant space. Shelves and tables held T-shirts with Siren's Paradise printed across the front in spidery lettering. There were also adorable stuffed seahorses, dolphins, sharks, and other animals in different colors. Books about sea wildlife lined a few small shelves. There was a surprising amount of people in there already, despite the shop's relatively small size. Most of them were younger girls with their friends or couples laughing together over inside jokes.

Minho and Newt had barely taken two steps inside, when Minho grinned suddenly and pointed. "I am buying you one of those," he declared importantly.

"What?" Newt followed Minho's gaze and saw a shelf up against the wall; it was behind the counter where the cash register and a very bored-looking girl sat. And it held rows of little, stuffed crabs in every color imaginable. Newt turned a withering look on his husband. "Minho."

"Yes?" Minho asked pleasantly.

"Please tell me we're not going to become one of those couples that always buys stuff for each other."

"I would, but that would be a lie."

"You are not buying me a stuffed crab that I will never use."

"Yes, I am. And you will love it."

"What makes you think I like crabs?"

"Who doesn't like crabs?"

Newt dragged a hand over his face and chuckled at how ridiculous the conversation sounded. "Okay, you know what, I'm gonna look at their books," he said. "You buy whatever you wanna buy."

"Well, I didn't bring money with me out here, but I'm coming back for it later," Minho replied. His eyes twinkled playfully. "What color do you want?"

"Do not buy me a crab."

"I'm buying you a crab."

"Minho."

"Newt."

Newt tossed his hands up in resignation. "Fine, fine, go ahead," he conceded. "I don't care what color it is."

"Great, I'll get you a pink one then." Minho flashed a smirk. Pulling Newt in close, he surprised the blonde by kissing him full on the mouth. Newt stiffened at first, and then melted. One hand came up to touch Minho's cheek, maybe to pull him closer or lace into his hair. But Minho was already pulling back again. His mouth curved upward. "Go find a shucking book already," he teased, giving Newt a light push. Newt just rolled his eyes, but a lovestruck grin played on his lips as he headed away toward the bookshelves.

Minho was foolishly giddy as he watched his angel walk away, looking much too edible for his own good. He longed for them to be alone together. But of course, he was willing to wait, especially if it meant he'd get to dance with Newt later on tonight. Turning away from the rest of the shop, Minho sauntered up to the counter. As carelessly good-looking as usual, he raked a hand through his damp hair and leaned an elbow on the counter. "Excuse me, but how much are those?" he asked conversationally, pointing up at the stuffed crabs.

The girl behind the counter gaped at him in what resembled extreme awe. "Uhhhh," she began, "what?"

"The stuffed animals," Minho explained, cheerfully oblivious to the girl's staring. "How much are they?"

"Oh. Um." The girl was trying (and failing) to keep her eyes fixed on Minho's face. "You mean those ones?" she asked dumbly, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the crabs.

"Yeah." Minho smiled one of those crooked smiles at her, and she nearly fainted.

"Well," she stammered out. "The...er...abs—I mean crabs! The crabs are...umm...like five bucks. Yes. Five dollars." She clasped her hands together on the counter, blushing scarlet.

"Thanks. I don't have any money on me right now, but I'll definitely stop by later for one, okay?"

"Okay..." the girl trailed off, blushing even more at the prospect of this beautiful guy coming back later. She continued to gawk as he turned away to find Newt.

To watch him go, she leaned over the counter so far, she almost knocked the cash register onto the floor.

-x-x-x-

Nighttime at The Diamond was an electric and magical time. Every light was lit, bathing the arching walls in brilliant gold. Crystal chandeliers glittered like millions of suspended teardrops. The air was constantly filled with a variety of tantalizing and mysterious sensations: the sound of clinking glasses, the smell of incredible food, rustles of silk from vibrantly colored dressed and suits, feet dancing over shining floors, and the constant, addictive hum of music. There were whispered rumors, laughing voices raised over crowds, and slightly-drunken conversation from the bar. It was a lively, wonderful time, indeed.

Newt, much to his chagrin, couldn't wait to become a part of it.

From their room, he could hear the faintest, heated tones of a saxophone singing from the dance hall downstairs. The bright blare of a trumpet followed, along with the thrum of a string bass. The band was beginning to get into full swing. Although Newt wasn't much into dancing in public, he decided to make an exception for this occasion. He'd heard there was a place to stop for refreshments in the dance hall, something much like a bar. Drinks and good food waited down there. That was what Newt was looking forward to. He'd be willing to go through some dancing to get expensive, well-prepared food.

He was standing in his room right now, playing with the cuffs of his dark navy dress shirt. Finally, he huffed and just rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. "It can't be THAT formal of an event," he muttered to himself. Besides, the constant brush of the sleeves against his wrists was going to irritate him to no end. He also wore black dress pants, shoes, (no tie, ugh, no) and had actually made an attempt on his hair. It still looked just as ruffled to him, but he decided he didn't care.

After a moment of waiting, Newt turned to the open bathroom door. "Hey, Min, are you done yet?" he asked.

"One second!" Minho called back.

"You said that five minutes ago!"

"Well, I miscalculated then." Newt could hear the mischievous grin in Minho's voice. "Hey, they have food down there, right?"

"Um, yeah, I think so," Newt answered, fiddling with the button beneath his collar.

"And drinks?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's something to look forward to."

Newt shook his head at the troublemaking tone in Minho's voice. "Minho, you are not going to try to get drunk," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I never said anything about getting drunk," Minho protested. "I'm just happy that there's gonna be some drinks there, that's all." He chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom. He was wearing black pants and shoes, similar to Newt's, with a white shirt. He was already pushing the sleeves up and the top few buttons were undone. His silken, black hair was spiked in a careless way that ended up looking perfect somehow. The way the shirt outlined his strong shoulders made Newt's heartbeat race. Minho looked absolutely gorgeous. Newt knew he wilted next to his husband.

He was about to say something, when Minho glanced up and saw him. To Newt's pleasant surprise, Minho's lips parted slightly and he stared at Newt dazedly. "Wow," Minho managed, "you look..."

Newt lowered his eyes once, bashful. "No, I don't," he mumbled.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," Minho laughed. He crossed the room to his husband and placed his hands on Newt's waist. Bending down, he lightly kissed Newt's mouth. "You look stunning," he murmured.

Newt smiled, but bit his lip to try to hide it. "Trying to flatter me?" he asked teasingly, setting his hands at the back of Minho's neck.

"Always," Minho replied with a roguish grin. He pulled Newt closer, until their bodies brushed together. "You know," he began playfully, "if you really don't want to go to this thing, you could always try to convince me to stay here." He bent his head and nuzzled Newt's neck as he said it, nudging Newt's head aside to find more skin.

Newt laughed breathlessly. "Oh, so now you DON'T want to dance?"

"I'm just saying you could make a very persuasive argument to it." Minho grinned against Newt's skin and nipped at the place below his jaw. "You're already changing my mind and you didn't even do anything yet."

"Am I that irresistible to you?" Newt's eyes slid shut as he reveled in the feel of Minho's lips on his skin.

Minho gave a huff of resignation, his mouth lingering on the side of Newt's neck. "Of course you are," he mumbled. "I couldn't say no to you, even if I tried."

Newt was about to say something else, but it died in his throat when Minho kissed down to the flash of collarbone his shirt collar showed. Teeth grazed over skin and Minho deviously flicked his tongue in the hollow at the base of Newt's throat. A pitiful whimper escaped the blonde, his fingers tightening at the nape of Minho's neck. "Minho," he breathed. "W—we're going to miss everything if you keep me here like this."

Minho's lips tilted up into a smug smirk and he trailed his nose back up Newt's neck. Placing one last kiss on Newt's jaw, he drew back. "Am I that distracting?" he asked, mocking Newt's earlier question.

Newt glared at him. "You're more than distracting and you know it, shank." His reply was a bark of laughter and another chaste kiss. "All right, let's go already. And stop kissing me before I change my mind."


	3. Chapter 3

-*sigh.* Okay. So this will now be FOUR parts long. I promise, there's only one more part after this. I just started writing and realized that I wrote way more than I thought I did. So here you go! More Minewt, yay! :D

Thank you very much if you left a review so far. Let me know how you like part three! :)-

The dance hall of The Diamond was gigantic. It stretched on forever, endless golden floors and creamy walls, the twinkle of glass and music in the air. Up above, a huge, starlit chandelier dangled from the ceiling. It was made of carefully-shaped crystals, catching the light and sending rainbows bouncing off each other. There was a bar off at one side of the room, showing off an array of glasses and bottles in all colors; bright aquas, electric greens, vibrant violets, and striking yellows. And then there was, of course, the dance floor. The wild, breathless bliss of the dance floor.

Newt felt a bit out of place when he stepped into the room. There were dresses everywhere, flowing and sweeping over the floor. Suits, dress shirts, skirts and high heels glowed from every corner. It was nearly too much to take in. At the back of the room, on a raised section of floor, was the band. Light gleamed off brass and silver as they played. The music was lively, and put a bounce in the air as it flowed from their instruments. People looked out of breath from dancing already, and the night had hardly begun.

"I change my mind, let's go back," Newt said, as Minho walked up beside him.

Minho snickered. "Aw, but we didn't even start dancing yet," he protested.

"Exactly."

"Newt, we have a whole night ahead of us."

"Plenty of time to get out of here before I humiliate myself."

"You won't. You're a great dancer."

"And you're biased."

"Only a little."

Newt snorted disbelievingly, but didn't take his eyes from the pulsing throng of dancers in front of him. There was a girl with long auburn hair twirling majestically in the center of the room. She resembled a ballerina with ages of practice. How was Newt supposed to compete with THAT? "I'm not going out there," he stated.

"You have to," Minho pouted. "They didn't play a slow song yet."

"So?" Newt scoffed.

Minho slid his arm around Newt's waist and dragged him up against Minho's side. "So I wanna slow dance with you," he murmured.

Newt shivered at the hot press of Minho's body against his. "If I slow dance with you for one song, can we leave right after?" he asked.

Minho thought. "Okay. I can live with that."

"...fine. I'll stay."

"Great!" Minho chirped, his hold suddenly tightening around Newt. "We can wait for a slow song over there!" He started to drag the blonde out onto the dance floor.

"What, no, Minho!" Newt yelped, struggling uselessly to turn back around. "I didn't mean we'd dance to THIS song first!"

"Well, that's what I assumed you meant."

"I swear to God..."

"C'mon, it'll be fun!"

"But Minho," Newt stammered, a bit anxious as he saw the people spinning in each other's arms around him, "I don't really know how to dance. Not like this."

"Don't worry about it." They stopped in the middle of the crowded floor. Minho set his hands politely at Newt's waist from behind to let the blonde know to stop walking. Brushing his lips over Newt's ear, he whispered, "I'll show you."

Newt couldn't deny how much that sinful whisper turned him on. Despite his fears, he swallowed and nodded.

"I'll keep my hands here," Minho told him, still in a hushed voice in Newt's ear. "You can put yours around my neck if you want, but people will stare at us like we're on Dirty Dancing if you do that," he added jokingly.

"Okay, then I'm NOT DOING THAT," Newt replied firmly, even though the position begged him to reach back for Minho's neck.

Minho chuckled, low and lovely. "Point taken. All right, now when the next song starts, just move how I do."

"How am I supposed to copy you if you're BEHIND me?" Newt asked flatly.

"You'll feel me."

Newt blushed at that. All of this was hinting at something so very intimate, even though they were in public. It didn't seem very appropriate. But Newt would be lying if he said he didn't love the way Minho could get like this with him.

Abruptly, there was a change in the air, as the band switched songs. A few girls squealed happily as their boyfriends found them, wrapping their arms around each other. Some couples danced lovingly and others were all sexiness in the way they moved. There was a hint of a daring feeling to it all. The song was slowish and grinding, the black tones of a saxophone ringing in the air. It was one of those songs you'd expect to hear in movies, right in the middle of a romantic scene. Only...darker.

"Just follow me, sweetheart," Minho murmured, his breath tickling Newt's ear. His hands pushed Newt back against him, urging him to mold their bodies together. When he moved, Newt felt the way his body moved with Minho's, their hips in sync. Minho's hold on his waist was chaste, but there was nothing chaste about this dance. The moves had Minho almost grinding into Newt, his chest pressed up against Newt's back. Newt gasped slightly at the sensation, and the new, flowing way he danced with Minho's help. The movements felt stiff and choppy at first, but he gradually sank into them. It was intoxicating.

"So...how am I doing?" Newt asked hesitantly.

"Well," Minho muttered, sounding oddly breathless, "you're driving me crazy with how you look right now, so I'd say you're doing fine."

Newt grinned. It felt like a victory to know that he was making Minho crazy. He allowed himself to melt farther back into Minho, the heat of Minho's body seeping into him. Now he was dancing on his own, not just relying on Minho. The moves felt fluid and addicting and sexy. Newt even let his hips push back against Minho's, creating more of that sensual, grinding feeling in the dance. Minho's hands had slipped to Newt's hips, much too low, but Newt didn't care. He was too lost in this. The trumpets rose up behind the sax and added more to the dark song. There was a brush of something soft against his skin: Minho kissing his jaw. Minho's quiet, husky whisper of "angel" in Newt's ear made Newt's knees weak.

The song seemed to end too soon. When the saxophone cut off, it issued a little sound of disappointment from Newt. He reluctantly untangled himself from Minho. "Shuck," he complained, smoothing his mussed hair. "You think they'll play another one like that?" He glanced at Minho, surprised at the look on Minho's face. "What?"

"Nothing," Minho answered quickly. He cleared his throat. "Just..."

"What is it?"

A sinister smile curled Minho's lips then. "You like dancing."

Newt wanted to smack him, that arrogant shank. "Maybe I do," he sniffed, lifting his chin. "But it doesn't matter. We're still leaving after the first slow song."

"You can keep telling yourself that," Minho told him in exaggerated pity. "But you know you liked what we did back there."

"I'm getting a drink," Newt decided. He began to walk away, not bothering to look back. He knew Minho would follow him. He just didn't want to give Minho the satisfaction of knowing he was right just yet.

"Oooh, someone's in denial!" Minho sang, trailing after Newt jauntily.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"You sound like a child."

"You LIKED dancing with me."

"That was not dancing. That was you finding excuses to grind on me."

"And you LOVED IT."

Newt denied it the whole way to the bar, but his face was growing heated as he walked. There were only so many lies he could tell. When he reached the bar at the side of the room, there were already quite a few people there. A girl in a flirty, scarlet dress leaned her elbows on the bar while a dark-haired guy spoke with her. A boy with short, mahogany-colored hair sat alone, spinning his glass absently around on the bar. There were a few couples there too, but they were in their own little world so Newt ignored them. He instead took an empty seat by the lonely boy with the short hair. The bartender was a girl, with long flame-red hair. She grinned wolfishly at Newt as he sat down. "What can I get you?" she asked in a voice that blared the way the trumpets did.

Newt opened his mouth to speak, but Minho suddenly sidled up beside him and raised a hand. "Whatever your best drink is, we'll have it," he said smoothly.

The girl arched a brow. "I like how you think," she remarked, nodding. "Coming right up." She turned away to the rows of glasses and bottles.

Newt sent Minho a withering glance. "I was going to get a Coke," he deadpanned.

Minho let out a burst of laughter. "That's no fun at all," he protested. "You gotta loosen up a little around here."

"Yeah, well, I don't really like to 'loosen up.'"

"Oh, come on, we're at The Diamond. How can you not wanna have a little fun?"

"Maybe I'm just not that good at having fun."

Minho snagged one of the barstools and slid it over to Newt's, intentionally letting the seats touch. Sitting down, he looped an arm around to touch the small of Newt's back. "Of course you can have fun; everyone can have fun," he teased, a lighthearted grin in place. Then he studied Newt's face for a moment. Some of the cheeriness faded. "Hey," he said, softer, leaning closer to Newt. "You're not...annoyed with me, are you? I mean, if you don't like it down here, we can always leave." He tried for a sweet smile. "Go up to the room? Watch TV, maybe? I brought every DVD of every season of Downton Abbey with us because I know you love it, and we can watch it all night, if you want."

Newt stared at him for a long moment. Long enough for Minho's smile to falter uncertainly. But then Newt just blurted out, "I love you," and snatched the front of Minho's collar so he could kiss him. Minho closed his eyes instantly, sinking into the kiss. His palm pressed into Newt's lower back with a gentle, meaningful pressure: you're mine. Newt allowed the kiss to last for a few seconds past what would be considered polite in public. Then he drew back, slightly breathless.

Minho blinked like he was coming out of a dream, looking at Newt through dazed, dark eyes. "Um," he stammered, delightfully effected by the kiss. "I love you, too."

Newt smiled and shifted his gaze away. "I guess I am no fun sometimes, huh?" he asked. "But you're right. I shouldn't try to have a bad time just because of a drink you bought me. And as for the Downton Abbey thing..." His smile widened and he leaned his side against Minho's, tucking his head in Minho's shoulder for a moment. "You're way too sweet to me, Min."

Minho touched his lips to the top of Newt's head. "Just wanna take care of you, angel," he murmured into Newt's hair. His hand wandered down to Newt's hip.

Newt turned his nose into Minho's neck for just a second, to inhale the burnt-wood scent of Minho's cologne. There was always a hint of something under it, a black mocha smell that was only Minho. Newt felt lightheaded and had to turn his face away again to catch his breath. There was only one person in the world who could effect him like that.

The sudden voice of the bartender jerked him out of his thoughts. "Here we are! Two Blue Flames, invented here at The Diamond by yours truly!" She proudly set down two long-stemmed glasses. Each was cradling a liquid colored the dangerous, electric blue of lightning. It looked like it would give you one hell of a night if you drank too many.

Minho paid and slid the drinks closer. He and Newt studied them silently. "Do you think it tastes good?" Newt asked uneasily.

"It's not called their best for no reason," Minho shrugged. "I'm going for it." He plucked up his glass and didn't hesitate before taking a sip. His eyes widened. "Shuck."

"What?"

"If heaven were a drink, this would be it...Can I have yours?"

"No way!" Newt laughed and reached for his own glass. Tipping it back, he took a longer sip than Minho. The liquid fizzed pleasantly the whole way down, and he couldn't really describe the taste. It was sharp and clean, with an undercurrent of sweetness that wasn't overwhelming in the least. And god, was it addicting. He decided not to set the glass down just yet. "We definitely need to live here now."

"Agreed," Minho replied, setting his glass to his lips again.

A new voice suddenly spoke up beside them, sounding a little shy at first. "Hey, you guys got the Blue Flame?"

Newt glanced to his right curiously. It was the short-haired boy who sat by himself. He was gazing at them through hazel eyes, as though asking permission to be in their conversation. A half-smile quirked one side of his mouth up. Up close, Newt saw that the boy's hair was spiked in the front, though it wasn't as long as Minho's. "Yeah, it's kinda our first time trying it," Newt replied, answering the boy's question.

"I was here when Maria first invented it," the boy told them, bobbing his head toward the bartender. "It was uh, interesting." He grimaced at the last part, hinting at failed attempts and awkward moments in the making of the Blue Flame.

"You saw her make it?" Newt asked. The boy nodded. "So you must have been here before, huh?"

"Actually, I work here," the boy admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm with them." He pointed back at the band playing their hearts out.

Minho peered over Newt's shoulder. "If you're in the band, why aren't you playing right now?" he asked.

"Well, normally, I would be," the boy answered. "But my cello's being fixed at a music shop right now so I can't. I came to support them though and help with unloading the instruments and everything."

"Oh, cool." Minho smiled and, too far away to properly shake the boy's hand, simply said, "I'm Minho, by the way. This is Newt." His hand tightened on Newt's hip as he introduced him. Newt's smile went wobbly.

"Nice to meet you," the boy replied, his grin growing as he became more comfortable. He probably wasn't so shy around his friends. "My name's Mark." He turned to rest on elbow on the table, so that he could face them better. "So, what're you guys doing here? Visiting friends or something in Siren's Paradise?"

Newt knew he was going to blush ridiculously now. Instinctively, he dropped his gaze to his shoes. "Well, actually, we're here for our honeymoon."

Mark's eyebrows rose in surprise. He glanced back and forth between them, finally catching Newt's bashful face and Minho's hand on the blonde's hip. Then he broke into a grin. "You guys are married?"

"Yep!" Minho answered proudly. He held up one hand to show off his wedding ring, so Newt did the same. They glowed in the lights beside each other.

"That's awesome, congratulations," Mark said, genuine feeling in his expression.

Newt mumbled a thank-you and Minho smiled around another sip of his drink. The two only became shy together when anyone talked about their relationship; Newt because he was always shy over these things and Minho because he was such a softie for Newt. To maybe divert a bit of the attention away, Newt spoke up. "What about you?" he asked casually. "Seeing anyone around here?"

"Oh. Well." Mark fingered his glass, hazel eyes going soft. "There is someone..." he trailed off, daydreaming about that mysterious "someone." Then he snapped out of it, clearing his throat. "But we're not really together."

"What d'you mean?" Newt asked, ever politely questioning.

"Who is it?" Minho asked eagerly, ruining the earlier politeness.

"Um." Mark stretched up to peer over the crowd. "I don't think he came tonight," he replied in disappointment. "He normally works at the front desk, so..."

"So it's a 'he?'" Minho asked.

"Yeah, it's a 'he.'"

"What's his name?"

"Alec."

"Alec..." Minho repeated, a plan forming in his mind.

Newt elbowed him in the side. "You are not going to try and play matchmaker for them," he said firmly. "Yes, I know that's what you were thinking."

Minho sighed. "Why do you have to ruin this for me?" He received another light push in return.

Mark chuckled nervously. "I think I'll be okay without a matchmaker to help. Besides, you guys don't want to spend your honeymoon helping me, right?"

"True," Minho agreed drily. They all laughed together, comfortable and carefree. The night was flashing by around them in a cascade of lights and color and sound. Mark's drink was gone by the end of the conversation, and so were Minho's and Newt's. They exchanged a few more friendly words, and then Mark wandered off in search of his fellow band members. He must've said something to them about the next song because the music seemed to switch earlier than it should have. It was now slow, nearly sluggish, like warm water gliding through the room. The saxophone and trumpets were quieter, letting a clarinet softly croon out a love song.

Newt played with the sleeves of his shirt and ran a hand through his white-golden hair. The subconscious movements were flirtatious, directed toward Minho because Newt knew Minho had wanted to slow dance.

Minho smirked, sliding his hand along Newt's back as he stood up. Straightening up regally, he offered his hand to Newt. "May I have this dance?" he asked formally.

Newt grinned, feeling the slight buzz of the Blue Flame inside him and the perfection of the coming moments. "Of course," he answered, using the same playful formality. He took Minho's hand and let Minho lead him out onto the dance floor.


	4. Chapter 4

-Final chapter, yay! Thanks so much for all the reviews you guys left! They never stop making me smile like an idiot when I read them XD

So, a warning: I don't know what kind of Minewt I was reading before I wrote this, but this turned out a little different from my other M-rated scenes between these two. It's still not very graphic, but, um yeah. It got hot. XD

Let me know what you think! Until the next story, see you later!-

The song was slowly winding through the air, the floor glimmering and golden, as Minho guided Newt out into the center of the crowd. Minho kept his hold on Newt's hand light as he weaved between the already-dancing couples. There were girls with their heads on guys' shoulders, spinning around slowly together. The dreamy look in their eyes blocked out all other emotions. Love was thick in the air, more addicting than any drug.

Minho halted in the middle of the dance floor and turned to face Newt. Pulling the blonde closer, he slipped his hands chastely around Newt's waist. Newt smiled and placed his hands at Minho's neck. They began to move, lazy and graceful. Four inches separated them, four inches of empty space between them. Newt quickly sank into this feeling, letting himself drown in it. It was lovely, the way they moved together, mirroring each other. He didn't want the song to ever end.

Halfway through the song, Minho grinned mischievously. "My goodness, sir, I'm surprised," he teased playfully. "When I first saw you over at the bar, I didn't expect you to be much of a dancer. Do you come here often?"

Newt laughed and decided to play along. "Actually, no, I don't," he answered lightly. "But you must; you dance so well."

"Oh, no, you're just trying to flatter me," Minho replied.

"It's true, it's true. You're excellent."

Minho's grin went crooked then and he moved his body closer to Newt's. His breath ghosted over Newt's ear as he murmured, "I'm even better in bed, love."

Newt felt his heart spin like a top in his chest. Goosebumps rose where Minho's breath tickled his skin at his neck. The words made him shudder. "Oh?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"You'd find out if you'd come up to my room with me." Minho's hands played with the back of Newt's shirt.

"I'd hardly join someone I just met on the dance floor up to his room," Newt replied, still keeping the game going. "It'd have to be for a very good reason..."

"Don't try to act coy now," Minho whispered seductively. "I knew as soon as I saw you that you wanted me."

"And what would make you think that?"

"The way you look at me, the way you dance with me." Minho traced his nose over the curve of Newt's ear. "The way you touch me."

Newt's fingers tightened in the back of Minho's shirt collar. Damn, Minho was good at this. If he really had been a stranger, Newt would've been done for by now. Minho's lips touched his ear and he inhaled shudderingly. "Minho."

"Hmm?" Minho hummed, and nibbled at Newt's earlobe.

"W—we're in public," Newt warned. Minho teased his earlobe with his tongue in response and Newt bit back his moan. Stopping the dance, he stepped back from Minho, out of his arms. His breaths wouldn't come evenly. "I need air," he stammered. He did. He needed some space from Minho, before he decided to forget about the people around them and put Minho up against a wall.

Minho's half-smile was full of delight at Newt's reaction. He came up next to his husband again and touched his waist politely. "Then come on," he encouraged. "We can get another Blue Flame while we wait for a new slow song."

"I think I remember saying we'd leave after one," Newt reminded him drily.

"Yes, but do you really wanna leave now?" Minho raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Newt huffed out a resigned sigh. "...no," he confessed. Minho chuckled in triumph and Newt elbowed his side. "Aw, shut up. Let's just go get a drink already."

"Fine by me," Minho replied brightly.

That was the moment when things got interesting.

They went back to the bar and ordered two more Blue Flames. Their lightning-bolt flavor was just as intoxicating as before. Then, when another slow song was played, they danced. Couples sent them curious glances, but neither of them seemed to care. When THAT song ended, however, they found themselves back at the bar again. And so, the pattern began. Dance, laugh, flirt, drink. The dancing was beautiful, their movements fluidly easy. The laughing was genuine and needed in the cheery atmosphere. The flirting was always sexy with Minho. It was the drinking part that got to them.

Newt, innocent, shy, angelic Newt, had never ever been drunk before. Now, granted, he wasn't VERY drunk now. But it was enough to put a buzz in the back of his head and make his judgement slip a little. Minho, on the other hand, HAD been drunk before and knew exactly what it felt like. He kinda knew that maybe they should stop drinking that night, but Newt looked so beautiful and happy that Minho (as usual) caved.

They were losing themselves in the night, in the wild, moonlit feel of it. They danced daringly, hands wandering where they shouldn't have. Newt loved to keep his lips at Minho's ear when they slow-danced because every word he whispered produced a full-body shiver. Minho's hands toyed with Newt's waistband, tracing the place where it rested at Newt's hips. They were reckless and sexy and in love. Newt didn't realize when his feet started moving or where they stopped at. The walls soared high and blurred past. Hallways came and went. Doors flashed by on either side. The smell of the outside, of the ocean and white sand, met his senses. It was unlike anything else.

And suddenly, he found himself with his back pressed to a mattress and Minho above him. Through his clouded mind, he saw that Minho was gloriously shirtless, wearing only his black dress pants. Newt could also tell that his own shirt had been torn open and, well, he couldn't really see where his pants were at the moment. He decided not to care as soon as Minho's mouth was on his.

They kissed frantically, drunkenly, hands clinging to skin. Minho's body was hard and lean over Newt's, his forearms supporting himself. Their kisses were deep, Minho's tongue running over Newt's teeth and making him whine. Lacing his fingers through Minho's hair, Newt pulled his head back until he could bite at Minho's lower lip. He took it between his teeth and sucked lightly. Minho released a needy moan from his ribcage. His hand fell down and gripped Newt's thigh. The pressure of every finger dug into Newt's skin and made him feel shocks of electricity bolt up his leg. Through his drunkenness, he struggled to think, to stay the sensible one, like he always was. It was impossible.

Minho ducked down and pressed his lips to Newt's neck. Kissing hard, he moved his mouth downward to the center of Newt's throat. He nipped once, listening to Newt's tiny whimper. Newt's fingers gripped at Minho's shoulders as his breaths came faster. Minho mouthed down to Newt's collarbone and traced the line of it with his tongue. Newt gasped, his head tipping back. God, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. It was all too much, and yet he couldn't get enough. Minho was making his way down Newt's body now, taking his time, not leaving one place un-kissed. He scraped his teeth gently down Newt's chest and touched featherlight kisses along Newt's stomach. He worshipped Newt's body as though it as a precious gem, something treasured to him. "You're shucking gorgeous," he mumbled, voice still drink-thickened against Newt's stomach.

Newt made a weak sound at the feel of Minho's voice vibrating against his skin. One hand was buried deep in Minho's black hair, the other knotted in the sheets. He tried to regain his senses. He lost them all again when Minho dipped his tongue into Newt's navel. The hand at his leg moved, rubbing along his inner thigh and driving him wild. "M—Minho," he stuttered, as Minho's fingers curled into the fabric of his boxers.

Minho pulled at Newt's waistband with his teeth. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked in a murmur. Besides kissing and heavily making out (and, okay, quite a few illicit touches), they'd never gone THAT far with each other. It was always something they'd waited for.

Newt wasn't thinking about that at the moment. All he was thinking about was how bad he wanted Minho's mouth on him. He shook his head. "Don't stop," he pleaded. He tightened his grip on Minho's hair; he knew Minho was sensitive with that, when Newt threaded his fingers into Minho's hair while they made out.

Minho purred at the touch. Daringly, he placed a kiss on Newt's length over his boxers. Newt's hips lifted instantly, begging for more. Minho smirked smugly and kissed Newt's length again, then dragged his tongue along it over the thin fabric. Newt mewled at the friction, but it wasn't enough. It was nowhere near enough. He was panting now, both from the delicious touches Minho was giving him and the anticipation. He practically lost all of his breath when Minho's fingers dipped into his waistband. Minho was torturously slow when he peeled Newt's clothing down. He didn't pull them off entirely, instead keeping them at Newt's knees. Newt squirmed under him; he wanted everything off. His shirt, though open, was still on him too. He ached to be completely bare under Minho's fingertips.

His thoughts dissolved when Minho took part of Newt's length in his mouth. He sucked just once and Newt was embarrassed by the groan that tore out of him. His body was trembling, his knees trapped by his boxers every time he tried to open his legs wider for Minho. It was incredibly frustrating, but undeniably sexy at the same time. Minho took Newt's thighs in his hands. He licked Newt once, twice, then blew gently on his scorching skin. Newt tried to buck his hips up, but Minho halted him. "Minho, please," Newt mewled. "Please, please..."

Minho whimpered aloud at the words. "I love it when you beg," he gasped out. His breath fanned over the inside of Newt's thighs, sending a shudder up his body. Minho closed his mouth over Newt again, and started sucking harder than before. Back arching, Newt made an obscene sound he'd never dared to make. His mind spun. Oh god, the heat was just ADDICTING, and he could feel the slightest brush of Minho's teeth, and dear lord, his tongue. That alone could've made Newt come. He writhed over the mattress as Minho drew his lips up Newt's length, then back down again. Newt nearly sobbed when Minho suddenly removed his mouth from him. He lightly ghosted kisses all over Newt's length instead, driving him to his breaking point.

"Oh god, Minho," Newt whined.

Minho gladly gave Newt more of what he wanted. He gave Newt one last kiss before taking him into his mouth again. This time, he didn't hold back when he moved his mouth over Newt, feeling the skin soft and so smooth under his lips. Newt's chest heaved, his fingers clawing into the sheets. He could feel himself getting closer, the climax rippling up inside of him. The way Minho licked and sucked at him was making him go out of his mind. Minho dragged his tongue roughly under Newt's length, and the feeling was enough to make Newt throw his head back as he came, moaning out loud at the intense pleasure.

He panted hard, his thoughts hopelessly jumbled. He felt Minho kissing his way back up Newt's body, until he reached his mouth again. Newt mewled when he tasted himself on Minho's lips. Minho chuckled wickedly when he heard it. "Not even trying to stay quiet when we're in a hotel?" he asked teasingly, kissing Newt's mouth again. "The people next door are gonna know how bad my angel is acting..."

"Min," Newt snapped. And before he could think twice, he added desperately, "shut up and make love to me already."

Minho blinked. All traces of his being drunk were gone. "What?" he asked, taken off-guard.

Newt realized what he'd said. They'd never had sex before. Not once. And God, the way he'd said it had made him sound so lustful and mindless. "I—I'm sorry," he stammered. "I wasn't thinking. We don't...have to..."

Minho reached up while Newt spoke and trailed his fingers down Newt's cheek. "Do you want to?" he asked quietly. He searched Newt's gaze carefully.

Newt's pulse leaped. "I thought...Well, I always assumed...we were waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Minho gave a small smile. "Newt, we've dated for five years. Now we're married. I finally have you for the rest of my life." He dropped his eyes shyly. "And besides, I'm in love with you. I'm too in love with you to ever even think of wanting someone else. So, if you want me, I won't stop you." He kissed Newt's nose. "I'm ready to give myself to you," he whispered softly.

Newt gazed up at Minho and knew right then that there was nothing he wanted more then to have all of Minho at last. He loved him more than his own life. He wanted this piece of him. "Okay," he breathed, the permission leaving him in a sigh.

Minho touched his forehead to Newt's briefly. "All right, sweetheart." He watched Newt carefully as he used his foot to push Newt's boxers off the rest of the way; they fell carelessly onto the foot of the bed, forgotten. Brushing a kiss to Newt's lips, Minho sat up, straddling his husband. Newt propped himself on his elbows, his heartbeat beginning to race wildly. His eyes followed Minho's every movement as he unbuckled his belt and then undid his pants. The sight of Minho with no shirt, and his pants undone and sinking low, was the sexiest thing Newt had ever seen.

Minho slipped out of his clothes and held himself over Newt again. With a shuddering breath, he slotted his body between Newt's legs. Newt felt the first pang of nervousness when Minho hooked his leg over one shoulder. "Wait," he gasped.

Minho halted instantly. "Angel?"

Newt swallowed hard. "Be gentle, okay?" he asked in a small voice, blushing.

Minho's expression softened. He stroked his thumbs soothingly over Newt's hips. "Of course," he murmured. "If you want to stop, just tell me. I don't want to hurt you." It sounded strange to come out of his mouth, because Minho would never dream of hurting Newt, and here he was, warning him about it.

Newt nodded silently. He didn't think he'd tell Minho to stop. But then Minho brushed against him and, god, then he was pushing inside. Newt's back left the mattress as his spine arched. He clapped a hand over his mouth, cutting off his broken whimper. He hadn't expected it to feel like this.

Minho was trying to breathe steadily, but his voice broke as he asked, "are you okay?"

Newt shivered. "It h—hurts," he admitted. "But only...only a little."

"Okay. I can—Oh, god." Minho cut himself off abruptly, bowing his head. His shoulders trembled as he struggled to control himself. "You're making me lose my mind," he groaned, even though he hadn't even started moving yet.

Newt had never seen Minho so unhinged before. He closed his eyes. "More," he begged. "I want more."

Minho gave a low sound from his throat and pulled back, almost the whole way out of Newt. Then he slid in again, setting a slow, careful pace. Newt's eyes flew open. He hadn't expected it to feel like this either. It felt hellishly, wonderfully, sinfully good. It set his mind reeling. His fingers scraped over the sheets as Minho's tedious movements pushed him up the mattress. Sparks danced their way up his body. It was too slow. He needed more.

"Minho, please," Newt pleaded, fighting for his voice. "Faster, harder, anything."

Minho whined out loud at Newt's begging. In the next instant, he gave one, hard thrust, dragging in deeper. Newt's head fell back, his lips parting. Minho's body ground into him with increasing pressure, faster than before. Every time he thrusted that deep into Newt, it made Newt see stars. He moaned, long and low as Minho grabbed for his hips. Canting Newt's hips up, Minho tried for a better angle. He rocked his hips forward and hit something inside of Newt that he hadn't hit before. Newt felt an explosion of ecstasy at that place, making him gasp and bite his lip. But Minho thrusted into it again and Newt cried out in pleasure.

Minho gritted his teeth as he began pounding into Newt even harder. Newt was shoved against the mattress, the breath forced out of his lungs. Minho was mewling above him, Newt's name leaving him in shattered ecstasy. Every time he slid over that place in Newt, it sent the blonde out of his mind. He could hear someone whining desperately and knew it was him. He couldn't take much more of this. It was mind-blowing pleasure, fireworks, lightning. It lit him up until he couldn't breathe. His climax ignited inside of him and he let out another, weak cry at the feel of it. Minho came seconds later, and Newt nearly fainted when he heard Minho's beautiful voice moaning like that.

They collapsed beside each other, exhausted and panting. Minho stretched out beside Newt, one hand resting on Newt's chest. Newt let his body sink into the mattress. It was then that he realized that he was still wearing his bloody shirt. "Oh hell," he muttered, sitting up long enough to shrug out of his shirt and toss it somewhere on the floor. Laying back down, he settled himself against the soft pillows, a long sigh of bliss leaving him.

Minho shifted closer to him, tucking his head in the crook of Newt's neck and looping an arm around the blonde's waist. He nuzzled Newt's neck, breathing in. "You smell so good," he mumbled huskily. He hummed softly in content and closed his eyes. "You're incredible. I never thought it'd be...like that."

Newt gave a short laugh. "What do you mean?" he asked disbelievingly. "You had boyfriends before me, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Minho rubbed his hand over Newt's waist absently. "I've never done something like this with them."

Newt's eyebrows flicked up. He was a little guilty to admit this, but he'd always assumed that Minho had been having sex before he'd met Newt. He was MINHO, after all; who could resist him? "So you never...?"

Minho shook his head. "No. The people I dated before you never lasted for more than a month. I was young. I didn't know what it felt like to really fall in love. None of them were like you." He smiled a bit bashfully then. "So, um, yeah. That was my virginity."

Newt blushed a little. Obviously, he had lost his virginity too. He'd never had one boyfriend before Minho. Minho was his first, his only. He smiled slightly and nosed into Minho's velvety hair. "It was mine too," he whispered.

"I figured," Minho replied, and Newt gave an indignant, "hey!"

"I was JOKING," Minho laughed. He kissed Newt's jaw, then reached down to pull the sheets over both of them. They were soft as silk and he tugged them up to their necks. Snuggling closer to his husband, he closed his eyes. "Newt?"

"What?"

"I love you."

Newt pressed himself up against Minho's chest in the gathering dark, soaking in his warmth. "I love you, too, Minho," he whispered.

Outside, he could hear the soft whisper of ocean waves, just before he gave in to sleep.


End file.
